


Ignorance is Bliss

by Accidental_Ducky



Series: Marvellous Mishaps [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU in places, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gratuitous Magic Using, M/M, Peter Pan | Malcolm is not Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold's Parent, Temporary Abusive Relationship, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25530403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin took more than Milah's life and Killian's hand that day, he took their daughter as well. Morgan grew up believing that Rumple was her true father with only minimal questions asked about it, but what happens when the stranger arrives in Storybrooke and everything begins to come to life?
Relationships: Aladdin/Mozenrath (Disney), Peter Pan/Original Character
Series: Marvellous Mishaps [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/312203
Comments: 9
Kudos: 3





	1. SEASON ONE

Rumpelstiltskin follows Milah and Killian aboard the _Jolly Roger_ , sneering at the pirates in distaste. He won't show the hurt that's building up inside of him at the fact that Milah's chosen rum-soaked pirates over himself and their son. He wonders what she would do if she found out what had happened to their son. Would she go with him and try to find Baelfire or would she simply shrug it off and stay with Jones?

"Well, well, seems like you finally found the family you could never have with me," he states as he walks past her and over to the railing. Rumple glances around the ship curiously, highly enjoying the scared looks he catches the crew sending his way. _Being the Dark One certainly has its advantages_.

Milah walks over to him after a moment with the magic bean between her thumb and forefinger. Rumple attempts to grab the bean only to have Milah toss it to her lover. Tall and handsome with eyes so blue it seems the sky is caught in them, it's little wonder why Milah is attracted to the Captain. She had often told Rumple that she wanted a child with blue eyes like her father's and she may get her wish if she stays aboard this ship.

"You asked to see it, now you have," the pirate says boldly, still clutching at his chest where Rumple had buried his hand just an hour ago. Rumple looks down at the deck for a second before meeting Milah's intense gaze again.

"Do we have a deal," she asks. Her voice, while still nice to hear, no longer draws him in as it had years ago. "Can we go our separate ways?" Her hands rest on her hips, her frustration clear. After all, why would she want to make a deal with a monster like himself unless it would result in the safety of her so-called true love?

"Do you mean, can I forgive you," Rumple asks, beginning to walk around the woman, making her turn on her heel in order to keep him in her sight. "Can I _move on_ _?_ Perhaps. I can see you are _twuly_ in love." There isn't a chance that he'll leave this ship without killing one of the pair, his contract be damned. Rumple loves enacting revenge, he loves it more than anything in this world aside from his son.

"Thank you." Milah makes as if to walk towards Killian when Rumple takes a step forward.

"Just one question." The hurt is beginning to bubble to the surface, but Rumple already has a mask of anger in place to hide his bitter sadness from the vagrants. Milah raises an eyebrow, her silent way of telling him to continue without opening her mouth. It seems to irritate Killian to no end that Rumple can read Milah's little signals so easily. "How could you leave Bae?" His magic responds to his emotions as his anger spikes, the ropes dangling from the masts above them beginning to writhe like snakes. "Do you know what it's like, walking home that night...?" He ignores Milah's fearful pleas for him to stop and calm down. "Having to tell _our son_ that his mother was dead." Guilt flickers in her stormy blue eyes for a moment.

"I was wrong to lie to you that night," she admits quickly, though he can tell she doesn't actually mean it. "I was the coward—"

"You left him! You abandoned him!" _Just like my papa did to me_.

Whatever reply she has ready is cut off by an infant's crying. Rumple's gaze darts to where the wailing is coming from and spots a young cabin boy holding a child that can't be any older than six months. He notices the barely contained expression of worry on Milah's face and that Killian's hand has dropped to where his sword used to be the minute the child was heard. So he was right it would seem, the pirate and Milah have a child together.

In a moment of pure rage, Rumple plunges a hand into Milah's chest, using his magic to restrain Killian until he has the still-beating organ in his grasp. Milah collapses into Killian's gentle hold, the scene playing out like all those fairy tales Rumple used to adore, complete with the taming of a wild Captain and declarations of love. It makes something in Rumple's chest fracture, and not even crushing Milah's heart into a fine powder makes that ache go away.

The child's cry abruptly cuts off with the faint pulse of magic and Rumple glances over at it again. The baby appears cradled in his arms with a flick of his wrist, one of its fists crammed into its mouth. It's a little girl, staring up at him with eyes the same color as Killian's; round little cheeks, and a thick mess of dark hair on her head, the flicker of magic a halo around her head for a brief instant.

"Let go of my daughter," Killian growls, standing up with both of his hands clenched into fists. Rumple's eyes focus on the fist he believes contains the magic bean before returning them to the baby and keeping them there. "You've done enough damage here, you demon." Rumple finally tears his gaze away from the child again and looks back to the pirate, thin lips twisting into an evil grin.

"I'll have what I came for now."

"You'll have to kill me first." Rumple levitates the girl while he pulls out Killian's stolen sword.

"I'm afraid that's not in the cards for you, sonny boy." Killian doesn't realize what's happening until his left hand is lying on the deck and blood is pumping from the ragged stump. He drops to his knees with an anguished cry, gripping his wrist tightly. Rumple picks up the severed hand, still curled up into a fist around the bean, and rests the tip of the stolen blade against Killian's shoulder. "I want you alive to suffer like I did." _Like I still am_. Killian picks up a silver hook that had been laying forgotten on the deck, driving it deep into Rumple's chest. His expression of surprise when Rumple only giggles more than makes up for the terrible ache still tearing its way through Rumple's heart.

"How...?"

"Killing me is gonna take a lot more than that, dearie." He tosses the hook away with a delighted smile, enjoying the suffering in Killian's gaze. Killing the love of his life is a fitting punishment and Rumple would normally leave now and let this man wallow, but his dark heart aches for something _more_ , something worse. His eyes flick to the baby again, floating on a cloud of magic as a plan begins to reveal itself in his mind's eye and he glances back to the pirate.

"Even demons can be killed. I _will_ find a way!"

"Good luck living long enough." Rumple cradles the child against his chest again, feeling a slight prodding as weak magic tries to coil with his own. It's a foreign sensation, one he fully intends to study later on.

"Leave her!" He steps out of Killian's way as the distraught pirate lunges at him.

"And I'll even give you an incentive." He laughs darkly, red smoke beginning to swirl around his feet, making its way up his body. "Your little daughter." With those words, Rumpelstiltskin disappears, hearing the single word Killian shouts before Rumple appears in his castle.

The child's name is Aveena.

**Storybrooke, Maine**

Morgan sighs, fidgeting in her seat as she waits for the bell to ring and dismiss her for the day. Chemistry isn't a good subject to have as a last hour class, no one can focus on the work as much as they should—not that the periodic table is hard to understand—and all she can think about is how badly she wants to sleep.

Glancing discreetly at her phone to see the time, she folds her assignment in half and uses it to mark her place in the textbook. _I'll finish the chapter review in study hall tomorrow_ , she vows silently. _Just so I can spend more time with Papa in the shop_. The bell's shrill ring fills the air a few seconds later, followed by relieved sighs from the students. Morgan darts out of the classroom to her locker, putting up the chem book and shouldering her backpack. She puts her earphones in as she leaves the school and starts down the familiar path to her papa's shop, humming along to her music.

" _If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do_ ," Jim Croce sings," _is to save everyday till eternity passes away just to spend them with you_."

After a long day spent learning things she'll never use in real life—Algebra II being the prime example here—it'll be nice to dig through the piles of dusty junk that clutters the backroom of the pawn shop. Hell, she'll even listen to her Papa ranting about Micah's latest attempt to get on his nerves. Most people avoid her papa when they can, going so far as to cross the street to avoid bumping into him—owning half the town and being a ruthless businessman tends to put people off—as a result, people tend to avoid Morgan as well for fear of being evicted if they slighted her. It's completely ridiculous, but it's nice not to be dragged down by drama, too.

On the other hand, it's kind of pathetic that her only friends are the Mayor's ten year old, a secret boyfriend she doesn't even want, and the two guys that run the best theater in town. Micah and Nicky Blaine aren't scared of Papa, and Micah spends some of his days off planning new ways to get petty revenge. It also helps that The Genie's Lamp is one of the few businesses in town Papa doesn't own, so there's no worry of the theater being shut down just because Nicky replaces Papa's shampoo with bright green hair dye.

The little bell above the shop door jingles cheerily as Morgan walks inside with a bright smile, stowing her iPod in her bag. Papa comes out from the backroom at the sound, holding a silver chalice that looks older than everything else in the shop, Papa included.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was the Holy Grail," she states, laying her bag on the counter and digging through it to find her pencil and notebook.

"How do you know that it's not," he counters with a smile of his own, setting the chalice down on a table near the front of the shop. Morgan tilts her head to the side and taps her chin as she pretends to think over his words.

"I guess it _might_ be possible since you're old enough to have played baseball with the dinosaurs." He takes on an expression of mock hurt that has her laughing and pulling him into a loving hug. "I have to go write a poem for English class, so I'll see you in a few decades."

**Gold**

Gold watches as Morgan walks into his office, his soft smile reserved for only three people; one of them is dead, one is somewhere else in this realm, and the other is the teenager singing in his office.

She's grown so much since he stole her and he's proud of her despite the fact that she's developed some of her biological father's habits. Stealing and drinking are things that make his blood boil when he catches her. It certainly doesn't help that she's the spitting image of the man, but at least she's developed some of Gold's mannerisms. It's enough that the people of Storybrooke don't think he kidnapped her, true though it may be.

He shakes his head and moves the chalice over a few inches to ensure the sunlight will bounce off it and temporarily blind Regina when she walks past. Teasing her is one of his few pleasures these days and he won't pass up an opportunity.

" _If I could make days last forever_ ," comes Morgan's voice from his office," _if words could make wishes come true, I'd save everyday like a treasure and then, again, I would spend them with you_." The irony of that song almost sends him into a fit of giggles and Gold can't help but sing along.

" _But there never seems to be enough time to do the things that you want to do..."_

_[Morgan/Aveena](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTgdigV7anOHoo3SHX568vKVov2xNtxM35uZ9lCpBgpo3W_5-K-) [Micah Blaine](http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/18000000/pics-vampire-academy-18008841-300-300.jpg) [Nicky Blaine](http://www.lahazat-harega.com/cast/13_b.jpg) [Fidget](http://www.catsynth.com/bucket/catsynth_images/Luna_BC_Small.jpg) [Pup](https://www.deviantart.com/thenewfiredancer/art/Alexander-491798580)_


	2. II

**Dark Castle**

Aveena stares longingly out her bedroom window, holding her small kitten in her arms as the dark cloud of magic looms ever nearer. Her papa had told her this would happen before he allowed himself to be imprisoned, but that doesn't mean she likes it. The cloud is a plum color and shot through with streaks of green lightning, rumbling and destroying, sucking away happy endings like a cyclone of misery.

With a quiet sigh, she moves her gaze to the black cat, petting him softly as his green eyes begin to close. "Sometimes I think he cares more about making deals than he does about me," she confides, moving from the window seat to her bed. The kitten makes a quiet sound, snuggling closer to her for warmth. "When he gets obsessed like this it's like I become part of the background." The kitten, Fidget, licks Aveena's cheek before shutting his eyes in sleep.

 _At least he can sleep through this_ , she thinks, still absently petting him _, I'll probably be awake for hours_.

Careful not to wake him, Aveena gets out of bed and walks downstairs to her papa's spinning room, barefooted and quiet so as not to rouse Trista. Her papa basically lives in this room as it's where he's stored several of his favorite objects, including what she's come here to see. The Holy Grail. Papa had gotten it from some knight or another that he'd made a deal with. It's a beautiful goblet, made of silver with a few jewels around the rim that sparkle in the moonlight that spills in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Aveena looks at her reflection in the silver, hoping to see even the faintest resemblance to the man she loves most in this world. Like usual, she puts the chalice down in disappointment. She looks nothing like her papa and acts even less like him.

Sighing, she walks over to the sword made for a great leader and picks it up, brandishing it like Papa had taught her. Excalibur is amazing, it's like the sword already knows what Aveena wants to do and the magical connection runs deep between them.

Knowing the curse is even closer, she begins to practice and hopes that she won't forget how to wield the blade she holds. Rumple had taught her about the Dark Curse; he'd told her not to panic, that he would find her in the land without magic that all of them would be moved to. Despite her fears, Aveena is determined to make her papa proud and keep her mind off the Curse so that she doesn't give into her nerves.

The night grows darker, the Curse hits, and Excalibur drops to the floor with a _clang_ as Aveena falls into unconsciousness.

**Storybrooke**

Groaning, Morgan rolls onto her side and turns off the alarm clock on her bedside table, effectively silencing the shrill beeping. _Six-thirty is too early for a teenager to be expected to get up and learn shit_. "Morgan," Papa calls from downstairs," get ready and I'll take you to Granny's for breakfast." He must be collecting rent today since he usually just drops her off at the bus stop and heads directly to work from there. _Whatever, I'm not looking to see if that gift horse has teeth._

She takes a quick shower before pulling on her school's uniform, sending her Daryl Dixon tee a wistful look. The dark blues and blacks of the uniform are boring compared to the colorful clothes she often buys. With a sigh, she forces a brush through her hair and puts her necklace on, the gold pocket watch hanging from the chain hidden beneath her blouse. She nods in satisfaction, leaving her room and jogging down the stairs.

"Almost ready," she tells him as she sits on the last step and slips on her black flats. Papa flashes her a smile, showing off his two gold teeth, and holds out his free hand to help her up. "How's your leg today?" He shrugs as they walk out onto the porch, leaning on his cane a little more than usual.

"It's not too bad." Morgan stops on the porch steps with narrowed eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. Papa sighs in exasperation as he turns to face her once more, used to her stubborn attitude at this point. "I swear to you, dear, it hurts no worse than it usually does, but standing around isn't going to improve it no matter how much you glare." She cracks a smile at that, continuing on down the steps and to the driveway where his car is idling, climbing into the front seat and relishing in the warm air inside.

"Are we _completely_ sure that my glaring doesn't work?" Papa gives a soft laugh, never taking his eyes off the road. "Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't I have an accent like you do?" _Why don't I look anything like you? Why can't I look at my reflection and see even a shred of you there?_ She's not much like her papa no matter how hard she tries and it feels like she's a disappointment in his eyes. Papa's brow creases in confusion and he shakes his head a little, sparing her a quick glance before returning his attention back to the road.

"Well, you didn't grow up in Scotland like I did, you grew up here in Maine." She lets the subject drop for now, content to spend the rest of the drive in silence. He doesn't like talking about their differences much, usually changing the subject or making vague excuses about distant family members they share. "I wonder whose car that is." Morgan looks out her window and spots a beat-up yellow Bug in the parking space next to theirs.

"Breakfast time, Papa," she quietly reminds him, opening her door and getting out with a library book in hand. Granny's is quiet in the mornings, allowing them peace as they take up a spot in one of the booths and order their usual breakfast. Despite the early hour, Morgan still has to scarf the eggs and toast down quickly since the bus would be leaving in five minutes and her papa doesn't like her skipping. _Just another day that I'll spend surrounded by the morons that are my classmates_.

"Don't eat so fast, it's not ladylike." She snorts, but doesn't talk until she's swallowed. Once breakfast is done, he drops her at the bus stop and her day passes like it usually does; a full eight hours surrounded by assholes, a trip to the principal's office after making Mrs. Bryland mad _again_ , and then back to Granny's for supper. She meets Papa there this time around, plopping down across for him and shoving her back away from her with some disgust. "I take it today was a bad one."

"Not particularly." She shrugs and orders a salad with extra tomatoes before allowing herself to relax. If nothing else, the steady routine keeps her from being too overwhelmed. "So, are we still going to see a movie after dinner or has something come up?" Papa often has business to deal with, so the two of them rarely get to do fun stuff together away from the shop or home and Morgan always looks forward to the rare times they go to the movies together. Ruby sets the salad down and wanders off, looking as glamorous as always. If Morgan even thought of wearing some of the outfits Ruby does, she's pretty sure her papa would have a stroke. 

"Of course, Morgan. What movie is it again?" 

"Finding Dory." He nods, gesturing for her to finish eating so they'll have time to get snacks before the movie starts. He doesn't look thrilled to go and see a fish movie that Morgan's already seen three times with Micah and Nicky, but he'll sit through it if it means getting to eat Skittles and making her happy. Mainly the Skittles thing, though.

As they walk up to the register to pay, Morgan notices a pretty blonde woman is already there talking to the owner that everyone in Storybrooke knows as Granny. "Swan, Emma Swan," she states so that Granny can write the name down in the reservation book. _Did this lady get her introduction from watching too many Bond films or what?_ Morgan bites her lip to stifle a laugh as she pictures the stranger jumping around and beating up criminals. _She can't be any worse than Daniel Craig, but she will never beat Sean Connery_.

"Hmm, Emma," Papa says with that knowing smile of his," what a lovely name." But there's something different about him, a new light entering his eyes that looks both familiar and foreign at the same time. There's something strange in the way Papa is staring at Emma, like he knows some big secret that no one else does.

"Thanks." Emma looks a little creeped out, but who wouldn't after some strange old man tells them something like that? Granny hands Papa a roll of cash for rent, meaning tonight's dinner is on the house.

"It's all there," the old woman assures him.

"Yes, of course it is, dear," Papa nods," thank you." He turns to face Emma again with his smile still in play. "Enjoy your stay, Emma."


	3. III

**Dark Castle**

Rumple stares down at the small bundle in his arms, unsure what to do with the child now that he has it. He hasn't held a child this small in years, not since Bae. The longer he stares at the infant girl, the more he sees Killian Jones and the happier he feels at having broken the man. He giggles, beginning to feel giddy about it all.

Now, what's better than him thinking his little girl is dead? That would be raising the child to think Rumple himself is her father!

"Shall I keep your name or change it," he asks the little girl. She gives him a giggle of her own, reaching up to grab his nose with her tiny hands. "Aveena it is, then." She giggles again before letting out a small yawn. With a wave of his hand a cradle appears and he lays the child inside, covering her with a blanket to keep her warm. Once that was done, Rumple moves to his spinning wheel, content to spend the rest of the night forgetting, but Aveena begins to cry after just five minutes.

What's wrong with her? Surely her cradle is comfortable, she can't be too cold or too warm... As he gets to the last item on his list, his eyes widen in realization; she's hungry. Of course, how could he have forgotten about one of her basic needs like that? His small nose crinkles in disgust as he recalls another thing he hadn't thought of when he took the baby, the bodily function that comes after she eats.

With a sigh, he picks Aveena up and his magic transports them to a hut on the edge of Rumple's lands. The owner is a midwife, a peasant woman that owes him a favor for assisting with a difficult birth where the baby would have died. The woman opens the door after hearing footsteps outside.

"D-Dark One," she stutters, brown eyes going wide in fear. While on any other day he might have reveled in the effect he has on people and taunted her, the fussing infant in his arms made him want to keep things short.

"Trista," Rumple grins," I do believe you owe me a favor." She gives a wary nod, eyes darting between him and the child crying in his arms. "You will move in with me and serve as the child's nursemaid. Do you understand?" Trista gives another nod, looking down briefly at the old black cat that was sitting at her feet.

"C-can I bring my pet?" Rumple sneers down at the mangy animal, but he figures that it could, one day, give Aveena a kitten of her own, so he gives a curt nod and turns his back to the dark-skinned woman.

"Do try to hurry, dearie, don't need the baby catching her death." Trista quickly scoops up her pet and follows after Rumple, nearly tripping on the tattered skirt of her dress. "A little faster." Rumple is growing impatient and the child's fussing is getting on his nerves. He holds the squirming bundle closer to his chest so as not to drop her. Once Trista is at his side and he finds a suitable place to use his magic, he transports them back to his castle.

Rumple can now spend the rest of the night spinning and forgetting without worrying about Aveena Jones.

**Storybrooke**

Morgan smiles at her English teacher while taking her test from the woman, not too daunted by the task. It's just the usual vocab test, all she has to do is remember a definition for each word and then use the word in a sentence for extra credit. Miss Carmichael is a nice woman, pretty in a way that isn't too obvious despite how tired she always seems; she's kind, yet nervous, brown eyes moving from student to student as they work. Morgan sets to work, scribbling down the answers as she comes up with them. It isn't exactly a taxing thing, so she finishes with it quickly thanks to some last minute studying and turns it face-down on her desk to signal she's finished. She pulls out the book she'd brought with her, taking in the words she's read a hundred times already. _Inkheart_ is a book she's had for years and always comes back to it no matter how many other books fill her shelves. The tale of a fire-eater and a man called Silvertongue is capable of soothing nerves.

Not long after she started reading, a voice comes over the intercom, loud and crackling. "Miss Carmichael," the high school secretary says," Morgan Gold has been checked out by her father."

"Alright, I'll send her out," Miss Carmichael replies in her usual quiet tone. Morgan gathers the few things she'd brought to class, walking out into the hall to her locker and stuffing them inside before grabbing her bag and walking out of the school. Papa meets her just outside with an excited grin that she hasn't seen in forever.

"What's going on," she asks with a smile of her own as they get in his car. "Did something happen?"

"I just thought you'd like to see something we both missed this morning," he explains vaguely. She frowns, buckling her seatbelt as he begins to drive. She knows the road he pulls onto well, it'll take them to the town square and just a bit further is the docks where she spends most of her free time. What she sees when Papa parks the car in front of the old library is a total shock for her.

The clock is working again.


	4. IV

**Dark Castle**

Aveena is shy no matter how hard her papa tries to break her of it, it seems to be her curse. At fifteen, she still has no one asking to court her. She never once blames her papa for it, but she's beginning to realize that he has a lot to do with it. Every now and again a young man will show up and her papa seems to have no problems with either scaring them away or turning them into some sort of animal. One boy, a sweet one named Jaq, was turned into a mouse.

Aveena doesn't mind so much, she's not ready for the stress of creating a family. Ready or not, it's rare for her to bring up that subject for fear of Rumple's temper. He's already struck her once before, though he regretted it soon after and apologized profusely, going so far as to buy her a necklace made entirely of rubies. That fear is why she waits until Trista is fast asleep and Rumple is locked away in his spinning room before making her way into the woods to the familiar clearing cut in half by a stream. She may not want a family yet, but that doesn't mean she's not ready for a suitor.

That's where Vincent, the son of a well-liked knight, comes in. If Rumple finds out about these late-night visits she will surely be punished, and Vincent will be killed in the slowest, most agonizing way Rumple can think of. Vincent smiles as Aveena walks over to him, his hazel eyes shining brightly with what Aveena thinks is love.

"My lady," he greets with a charming smile, giving her cheek a chaste kiss.

**Storybrooke**

Have you ever had one of those days where the planets have aligned in the perfect way to ensure the rest of your day is completely shit? That's been today for Morgan and she doesn't think she'll have a break any time soon. She's beginning to lose her voice, forgot to do her Algebra II homework last night, and as the cherry on top, a car nearly ran her ass over as she was walking for the bus stop.

She'll probably eat some lunch and just skip the rest of the day even if she knows that the school will call Papa and rat her out. A lecture from him is preferable to dealing with Mrs. Bryland glaring at her for forty-five minutes. Sighing, she adjusts her grip on her messenger bag before running across the street to the high school building.

As if her day couldn't possibly get any worse, she sees Eli waiting for her by the half-wall that had a bronzed plaque with _Storybrooke Preparatory School_ and the mascot of a snarling bulldog bolted to it. She felt the familiar curl of fear in her belly, her mouth going dry as he spots her and gestures for her to walk over to him. Eli is a tall and muscular boy with dark good looks, some of his hair hanging in front of his eyes and his grin revealing a dimple in his left cheek. He was basically the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, though no one knew just how messed up he was. He's one of the few students not afraid of her because of who her papa is, but that's only because his father is nearly as powerful, owning the places Gold doesn't.

All the same, she plasters a smile on her face, letting him wrap his arms around her waist and place a quick kiss on her lips. It was a familiar, though uncomfortable, routine and not following it meant a harsh punishment and a trip to Walmart to buy a new tube of concealer.

"My lady," he says by way of greeting, clearly in a good mood. He releases Morgan's waist long enough to lace their fingers together, about to start walking towards the cafeteria when he really looks at her. His smile fades a little as he notices how pale she is and the way she winces when she swallows. "How are you feeling?" Normally she had better control over herself, keeping her head up and feigning confidence despite the fact that she wanted to run and never look back.

"I've been better," she tells him as loudly as she can manage, a small squeak coming out as she struggles. He laughs at the sound, hazel eyes lighting up with amusement. Scowling, she smacks his shoulder, though she knew it wouldn't hurt him in the slightest. Not only was Eli captain of the fencing club, he was also a football player, though nowhere near first string material; not as big as some of the others, but still bigger than she is. "I think I might go home after lunch if I don't feel any better." As it is, her throat feels like it does whenever she shouts Aragorn's pre-battle speech at Mister Bryland when he's being really irritating.

 _At least I'll get away from Eli for a while_.

"Maybe I'll go with you. After all, that squeaky voice of yours is pretty funny," he quips and she smacks his shoulder again with a nervous laugh. "Seriously though, I'll drive us to your house right now and we can eat some Sonic and watch TV until time for your dad to come home. That's when I haul ass outta there because he'd gladly decapitate me if he finds out we're dating." He gives Morgan a smile that would make any other girl swoon, leading her towards the student parking lot and gently yet firmly pushing her into the front seat of the white Mustang he was so proud of. "You'll want your usual, I presume?"

"You presume right."

**Gold**

When Gold came home for the lunch hour he didn't expect to see his daughter and some young man tangled together on the couch while a Queen song was playing in the background. Gold makes a point of dropping the takeout he'd brought home loudly onto a side table by the couch that he would have to burn later. The two teens jump, the boy tumbling onto the floor as Morgan shoots upright, cheeks flushed and going darker once she realizes just who it was that caught her. The boy stands up, growing pale when he catches the glare Gold's giving him.

"Uh, um, I'll see you later, Mor- Miss Gold," the boy stutters, grabbing his tee and running out of the house quicker than Gold has seen any teen move since his daughter thought she was late for a Scooby-Doo marathon. Morgan brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them with a glare sent in Gold's direction, but he could see the remains of fear there as well.

"Way to go," she growls, taking her dinner and marching up the stairs in a huff. Gold stares after her in bewilderment, wondering what he should do. Does he run after her and chance having Fidget attack his ankles again or just stay downstairs where he was safe from any pillows she would throw at his head when Fidget calmed down? And, more pressing than anything else at the moment, the little shit had stolen his lunch. He'll never understand teenagers, let alone teenage _girls_. Gold chases after Morgan, wanting to know exactly why she and that boy were tangled together on the couch and why the school had called and informed him that his daughter had decided to skip after her tech classes were finished.

"Morgan," he shouts upon finding the teen's bedroom door shut and locked. "Open this door!"

"No!" He rolls his eyes at her childish response, remembering a time he had to remove the door to make it where she couldn't lock him out in fits of rage; she was only seven back then and here she is doing it again at seventeen. "Just leave me alone and let me eat." He notices she's not shouting like he expected and that her voice tended to rasp every now and again.

"Morgan Elizabeth Gold," he growls," open the door or I'll open it myself." He gets no response, hearing the TV in her room turn on and the familiar sound of Supernatural playing in the background. One of his hands reach up to feel around the top of the doorjamb, grabbing the key to her room and inserting it in the lock, walking inside much to his daughter's annoyance. "Now, tell me what you thought you were doing with that boy down there and why you skipped all of your afternoon classes." He was having a hard time to keep from yelling at her because yelling only made her angrier and more defensive.

"Laryngitis tends to make people want to skip," she croaks with a glare in his direction before facing the flat screen again. "As for the other question, I think it was kind of obvious, don't you?" He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down before he throttled the teen, having seen the fear in her eyes when the boy was kissing her jaw. She'd been shaking like a leaf under the boy's touch and he wanted nothing more than to track the boy down and beat him senseless.

"I know when you're lying, Morgan." She doesn't look at him or give him any sort of response. "Did... Did that boy force himself on you?" Her eyes narrow slightly and her lips press into a thin line. He sits beside her and leans his cane against her bedside table, smiling slightly when he notices her cat curled up in bed beside her. He hated to admit it, but the creature was beginning to grow on him. "Were you only doing that because he told you to?"

"Of course not," she answers a little too quickly. "I've been dating Eli for a while now." She still doesn't look at him, gaze switching from a grinning Dean Winchester to Fidget, the black cat of hers. It meows, moving to curl up in her lap. Intelligent green eyes look up at Gold as if to say _Drop it, old man._ "Can I just be left alone now?" Gold sighs, squeezing one of Morgan's trembling hands and getting to his feet with the help of his cane. Stopping at the door, he turns to face her.

"Tell me when you're ready, sweetheart, and I'll make sure Eli never bothers you or even thinks your name again." She just keeps looking at her pet as tears begin a slow trek down her cheeks. He feels a sharp pang in his heart that he could do nothing right now to help his little girl, wishing desperately that she had stayed an innocent four year old forever so that her only worry was missing the Saturday morning cartoons she was so fond of.

**Morgan**

She wipes away her tears once Papa leaves only to have more tears take their place. She hasn't cried about her situation for over a year, but Papa had to go and stir things up again. Morgan will have to apologize to Eli later and she fears what he might do as punishment. She wants to hit back, but she can't right now, not until she's certain that her papa will be safe. Until then, she'll keep up the happy façade and she'll show the world the young woman that they expect. She'll let Eli kiss her and hurt her, but she _will_ hurt him back one of these days. She'll show him just how strong she can be.

Morgan shudders, deciding a long shower will do nicely until she can come up with a solid plan. With a determined set to her jaw, she places Fidget on the bed and walks into the bathroom to start the water. She's trapped for now, but she'll find her way out of this mess.


	5. V

**Enchanted Forest**

Aveena slowly walks through the market, looking around for her papa or even Trista, but finding neither of them. Rumple had instructed her to stay near him as they navigated through the thick crowds, the cowl of his cloak hiding his face from view so that he is not recognized. He didn't want very many people to know that he had a child because he knew the seven year old could be used against him.

Somehow, she had been separated from the two adults.

Few people looked at the struggling child, but she managed to catch the eye of one who recognized her almost instantly. The man stalks towards her hurriedly, not wanting to lose sight of her when he was so close to having his baby back. Killian put a hand on the child's small shoulder, gently turning her to face him with a warm smile on his face. He squats down so that they are almost eye to eye.

"Are you lost, sweetheart," he asks. There's a spark of curiosity in blue eyes that were an exact copy of his own.

"Yes, I can't find my papa." Aveena is close to tears now, meeting the stranger's gaze every now and then. Her papa had told her not to talk to strangers unless it was absolutely necessary or he told her to himself, but she felt something about this stranger that she hadn't with her papa and it was strange.

Killian just felt equal parts of anger and hope course through him, anger at the fact that she called the Crocodile 'Papa' and hope at the fact she talked so freely with him. This was, without a doubt, his little girl.

"What's your name?"

"Emilia," she answers without hesitation. Her papa also told her never to reveal her true name. "What's yours?" Killian opens his mouth, ready to tell her exactly who he was, but he never got the chance.

"Emilia," a worried voice shouts, one she recognized and ran off in the direction it came from. Killian stood up and spotted his daughter run to a cloaked figure and a familiar woman. The woman lays a hand on Aveena's head, asking her something. That's when he realizes who the woman is, Trista had been raised alongside Killian and they'd been good friends before he and Liam joined the Navy.

Aveena gives a short nod and the Crocodile picked Vee up, making the child laugh. Killian's eyes narrow into angry slits and his remaining hand clenches into a fist. Unfortunately, before he could charge forward and take his revenge and daughter, the trio disappear into thin air and he was back to square one.

**Gold**

There are nights when Rumple feels the magic itching just beneath his skin, like he could get at it if he scratched hard enough. He remembers the rush of exaltation whenever he finished a spell or made a new potion, the prickling of arm hair standing on end as the magic whirled out of him in a cloud of gold.

Then there are nights where he's a simple businessman that's a bit too ruthless to make friends in his hometown. Mister Gold owns most of the businesses and homes, he's foreclosed on them more than once and even took some joy in seeing the desperation on peoples' faces when they come to beg.

The days when those two seem to clash, where he sees past the effects of the Curse just long enough to see a grasshopper instead of his daughter's shrink, make his head throb. Those days he tends to spend at home with a bottle of scotch and a pint of Ben and Jerry's, a movie playing for white noise. This is how Morgan finds him when she comes home from school, her backpack weighing down one shoulder and a scowl that could rival his own. She kicks her shoes off by the door and drops her bag beside the couch, barely sparing him a look before curling up against his side and stealing the ice cream right out of his hand.

"I know I didn't raise you to have such horrible manners."

"Yes you did," she states, grabbing his spoon next. "Why are we watching Buzzfeed Unsolved?" Gold shrugs, wrapping an arm around his daughter's shoulders. The episodes are a nice background noise, something numbing and lacking in magic. It's a nice change.

"Because it's interesting and I like watching the short one scream."

"Sounds about right." They spend the rest of the night like that, switching from ice cream to Chinese take-out around five (he _is_ a responsible parent after all). There are occasional snorts of amusement, a few out-right laughs, but it's mostly comfortable silence. They don't budge even as Morgan's breath evens out into sleep and Gold follows her down into a darkness free of dreams.

His last thought before he gives in is that they'll need something a lot more substantial than a Krispy Treat to lure out spirits.


	6. VI

**Enchanted Forest**

Aveena follows Vincent through the quiet streets of the village to his home, the harsh winds making her shudder. It was a cold night, nearly winter, and Vincent had decided that it was time Aveena met his father, Ser Michael. The man that opens the door is a familiar one, she's seen him patrolling the village and fighting alongside the other knights on several occasions.

"This is the girl," he asks, cold voice sending unpleasant shivers down her spine. Vincent nods with a smile, urging her farther into the home with a hand at the small of her back. Slowly, the fair looks of Michael fade to darker ones; his golden hair and bronze skin changing to black hair and such pale skin that it was nearly ashen. "You're sure she's the Dark One's daughter?"

"Yes, father," Vincent nods, looking unfazed by the sudden transformation. Standing before Aveena was none other than Mordred of Orkney, traitor and illegitimate son of King Arthur. Vincent keeps a firm hold on both of Aveena's arms when she attempts to back away from the dangerous man, tsking even as she continues to struggle. Everyone knows of Mordred, he's a cold man that wouldn't hesitate to slit a child's throat if it meant he would get what he wanted. Aveena had no such plans to allow this man to kill her, she would rather face her papa's wrath than let this man use her. "Easy now, little miss," Vincent scolds. "The more you cooperate, the easier this will be." Mordred chuckles at that, reaching out a gloved hand to twirl a lock of Aveena's hair around his finger.

"That's right, Aveena, no one needs to be hurt too badly here." She flinches away from him as he inches closer, pulling her out of his son's arms and into his. "Just a few questions, and if you answer them to my liking, you'll get a prize." His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, one of his hands grasping her hip tightly to keep her in place. "Right this way, my lady." Mordred gestures towards a doorway, drawing his sword as motivation for Aveena to move. She does so reluctantly, wondering if she could run faster than the two men and deciding that it wouldn't be hard for Vincent to catch her. Aveena sits on the settee in main part of the home, the roaring fire burning in the hearth making her break out in a light sweat.

"Please," she begs," please, just let me go and I'll give you whatever you want." Mordred laughs as he sits next to her, draping an arm casually about her shoulders and pulling her close to him despite the fact that Vincent was standing three feet away. "My lord, I can give you gold if that is what you wish." Her voice is shaky and breaks in places, only making the men's smiles widen. The panic truly set in when she realized they had their home warded, she couldn't use her magic to take her away from there.

"Oh, we don't want gold."

"Then what?"

"You, as a spy."

**Storybrooke**

Morgan stares down at the newspaper, her chin resting on her folded arms atop the counter. Apparently a man that's been comatose for the past few years woke up last night and decided to go for a midnight stroll over to the toll bridge. It's a strange headline, but she guesses it's better than the usual town gossip like who's marrying who for what reasons. _Blah, blah, blah, whatever_.

"Miss Gold." She jumps at the cold voice, glancing up and finding Eli's father looking down at her. Much like his son, Martin Paracida had a darker coloring that contrasted with his pale skin, eyes almost black and just as hard as marble as he stares her down. "Anything interesting this morning?"

"No, Mister Paracida," she answers as loudly as she can, wincing slightly and taking a sip of her water. "Just the usual, I guess." He nods, sitting down on the stool beside hers and taking the paper from in front of her. She keeps her eyes on her untouched plate of eggs, hands fidgeting in her lap when she sits up.

"My son is waiting for you outside. I hear you've done something very costly recently and he'd like to talk to you about it." He doesn't bother looking up from the paper, knowing she'd go outside to the car like she was expected, readying herself for what was about to happen. It would be a beating, nothing too severe to keep her papa from suspecting anything more than he already does. Martin was the instigator in all of this, the one controlling Eli's strings, and she has no doubt that he'll continue this until she gives him any news of interest. That would never happen, she would take the abuse thrown her way if it means Papa is safe. She's stronger than these two men and she would prove it.

Morgan climbs into Eli's car and sits quietly as he drives to the usual location, one of his family's warehouses that's as familiar to her as the abuse. He can punish her here without worrying someone will overhear, wailing on her with his fists and his feet once her legs give out. She can take it and she'll give it back ten fold as soon as she gets the chance. 

"You're worthless," he snarls, punching her once more in the stomach and driving the air from her lungs. "I can't think of a reason to keep you around anymore save one." He spits on the ground in front of her before turning on his heel and leaving, his Mustang peeling away with a squealing sound that meant skid marks would be left behind. Slowly, she struggles to her feet, leaning against the wall for a few minutes until she has her breath back before starting the long trek back home. Papa wouldn't be home for a few hours since he was doing inventory and she can take a long bath to force her muscles to relax and then order some take-out for supper. 

With a groan, Morgan stumbles along the side of the road with the goal to make all of this stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paracida means traitor in Latin, so I thought it'd be fun to make that Mordred's Storybrooke surname.


	7. VII

**Dark Castle**

Aveena was curious and that was never a good thing for her to be. She wanted to know who the stranger she keeps seeing around the small village was and why he was watching her so intently with blue eyes that she saw every time she looked in the mirror. Rumple, of course, was doing all in his power to keep her from finding out the truth; he couldn't have another child leave him, especially not for a pirate.

"Papa," she asks softly, looking at him using the mirror in front of her.

"What is it, dear," he asks, not glancing up from brushing out her long hair. The sixteen year old, still a little girl in his eyes, shrugs a shoulder, fingers fiddling with the skirt of her gown.

"Why don't I look like you?" Rumple pauses what he's doing for a moment, eyes locking with hers in the mirror—hers wide and questioning while his showed just how off guard she'd caught him. "I've seen some old drawings of how you looked before you became the Dark One and I still didn't look like you, but I looked a tiny bit like the woman you were with."

"Yes, she was your mother." Rumple had a hard time choking out the word _mother_ seeing as Milah was never a fit mother for anyone. "She ran away a few months after you were born; a pirate had charmed her aboard his ship and then murdered her." So it was a tiny lie, but he needed to know that his precious little girl wouldn't make the same mistake as Milah. "Let's not talk about the past any longer, dear. It is rarely pleasant for anyone." Aveena nods her head, obviously not completely understanding why her papa just wanted the subject buried.

"Can we go outside later?" He chuckles at the innocent question, setting the silver-backed brush on the vanity and picking Aveena up, swinging her around playfully. She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck and throwing her head back. Despite her not being little anymore, Rumple possessed a strength that no other man had and had little trouble carrying his daughter.

"Why not now?" With a grin, he carries the child outside to the sprawling lands where she was free to wander without the worry of being killed. He keeps a close eye on her as she begins to climb a tree, knowing that she was clumsy at times just as Milah was, and thinking it was soon time to pay Cinderella a visit. "Be careful, little bird," he calls out distractedly as his thoughts turn to the deal he had struck with the Princess.

She would soon have what he wanted and if she didn't give it up he'd take it anyway and kill her. He chuckles darkly at that particular thought. Cinderella didn't appear to be a very strong woman, nor very bright since she declined to read the contract fully to see what the price would be.

A sudden scream makes him jump back to the present situation, automatically looking around for his daughter. Aveena lay at the base of the tree she'd been climbing earlier, unmoving and scaring the hell out of him.

"Aveena!" He sprints as fast as he could, magic never crossing his mind until he turns her on her back and pulls her onto his lap. She was breathing, but it was faint and quick like she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Trista runs out of the castle at his scream, lifting her skirts and sprinting as he had. Aveena's eyes remain closed but she lets out a small whimper and shifts in his arms slightly. Her right arm was broken—quite obvious due to the dent he saw there—and at least two of her ribs were fractured.

"It'll be alright, sweet girl," Trista murmurs, both of the adults shifting until Trista is holding Aveena in her lap and Rumple is leaning over her with his hand poised over her arm. Purple smoke wraps around the broken limb, dissipating a few seconds later with the bone back in place and the dent gone; next it moves to her torso, staying there far longer until all that remained on Aveena's body were a few bruises and scrapes that could heal naturally on their own. Gingerly, Rumple picks Aveena up and carries her inside to her bed. He sits with her until the very last minute, using magic to change into an elaborate costume for the ball. 

"I'll be back soon, little bird," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her temple. "I love you." Trista watches him leave in a puff of smoke, wondering how he thought a deal was more important than his recently injured child.

"I am here, sweet girl," she whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Aveena's hand in both of hers. "I'll always be here for you even when your papa is not." The child doesn't stir, but she hears the soft voice even though she cannot yet respond due to the magic Rumple had used to make sure she gets enough rest. She'll remember what that voice said years from then even if she can't remember just where exactly she'd heard it before.

**Storybrooke**

Morgan shifts uncomfortably in the hard kitchen chair, her right arm throbbing and itching under the cast. "Believe it or not, I don't like these Saturday council meetings, but sometimes they're unavoidable," Regina tells Henry, applying a new coat of lipstick. She turns and walks over to the table Henry and Morgan are sitting at. "Now, you both know the rules?"

"Yes on homework, no on TV, and stay inside," Henry answers automatically, setting down his comic. His gaze turns to the teen at the same time his mother's does.

"Make sure Squirt does all those things and spray him with a water bottle if he doesn't," she jokes with a smile. Regina nods in approval, putting one finger under Henry's chin to make him look at her.

"Under no circumstance do you leave this house," she tells him sternly. Morgan quietly sneaks off to the living room the moment Henry mentions the new girl in town, his biological mother. At least the couch in this room is softer than the kitchen chair, more forgiving as the Tylenol starts to wear off. "I'll be back at five. If you need help you know who to call," Regina says over her shoulder as she walks out the door.

"Yes, ma'am." Morgan gives her a mock salute before returning her gaze to the chemistry book she was pretending to read. The moment she hears the car drive off she grabs the remote and turns the TV to Game of Thrones, Henry running out with a backpack not two minutes later. "Be back before your mom gets home or we'll both be turned into toads!" She doesn't get a response back and focuses on a rerun from the first season, wondering just how Jaime could even stand to be around his twin sister, let alone make babies with her. With a shrug, she watches as the drama unfolds in the family homestead, laughing because she knows exactly what was going to happen and at what time.

" _Let me give you some advice, bastard: never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you_." She smiles at Tyrion, that quote being one of her favorites from this season. It was one she tended to write everywhere, Micah's scripts that she's supposed to proofread usually covered in unrelated quotes that she scribbled down when she grew distracted. He wasn't ever too happy about it—he wasn't ever happy whenever he was working on a new production—but he never complained too loudly and would ruffle her hair in payback.

She was just digging around in her bag for the bottle of Tylenol when her phone began to ring, gaining her attention as she pulls it out instead. The picture on the screen is of her and two men smiling in front of a theater, and her smile widens as she accepts the call.

"Hey, Nicky," she greets, resting her feet on the low coffee table.

"Mo," Nicky returns and she could hear the smile in his voice. Nicky was always smiling, the definition of faith and happiness. He was the complete opposite of his husband and it never failed to shock Papa whenever he saw the two getting along. "I was wondering if you wanted to come down here and help Micah out with auditions for this new thing he's doing."

"Can't, I'm babysitting."

"Yeah right, I just saw Henry running down the street."

"Alright, I'll help our Dark Lord figure out who to cast as Annie."

Later, after Micah shouts until he's red in the face that he would rather cross-dress than cast 'that worthless, bird-faced, moron' as Annie, Morgan collapses back on Regina's couch, turning off the TV and picking the textbook back up. To make the scene look authentic, she pulls out a notebook and scribbles a few terms down. Henry rushes up the stairs a few seconds later with his mom following through the front door, calling for him. Morgan goes tense, waiting for her to realize what had happened and start yelling that they're grounded until Regina has gray hair. She'd done it before and Papa went along with it because he thought it was funny.

"What did I tell you," Regina yells up the stairs, carrying one of Henry's shoes with her after tossing Morgan forty bucks. "You can't keep leaving your shoes on the stairs!"

**Dark Castle**

"I'm leaving tonight, little bird," Rumple tells Aveena, pushing some of her hair off of her face. "Listen closely, a year from now, when you are seventeen, a great Curse will be unleashed on this world and rip us all away to a new world, one without magic."

"Bae," Aveena gasps," we could find him!"

"Yes, we'll find your big brother, but not until the Curse is broken. Snow White and Prince Charming's child will be the Savior. Do not be afraid when it happens, it won't hurt. In fact, it will make you sleep. Until the Curse happens, I will be powerless in a cage deep underground; Trista and Fidget will protect you." She nods, giving her papa a hug, the last one he'll ever receive from her while she's still Aveena for a very long time. "Goodbye, little bird."

"Goodbye, Papa."


	8. VIII

**Dark Castle**

Aveena stares out her bedroom window with a sigh, longing to be outside and running, to be doing something other than _sewing_. She wasn't very good, barely managing to complete a tunic that would fit her papa, and it wasn't one she wanted him to wear either. It was once a beautiful gold silk, now stained in places where she had pricked her finger on the needle and wasn't quick enough to avoid a drop or two of blood from landing on the material.

Scowling, she throws her current project out the window, watching as it floats down on the gentle breeze until it reached the earth, the gold complimenting the green of the grass. She smiles at that, flouncing out of the room and down the hall, stopping in front of the door that was always closed. It would be her big brother's room once he was found. Baelfire, Papa said his name was, lost to fairy magic. Inside is a wardrobe filled with fine clothing that Papa hoped would fit his son, the clothing changed yearly as Bae would grow. She felt bad for her papa because, having never known Bae, she didn't grieve like he did. She didn't have to forget every night.

Aveena continues to stare at the door a few moments longer before leaving to find her papa and Trista, who was rarely far from either of them. She and Papa have an agreement to get along with each other as long as Aveena was around; after all, Trista's the reason the teen stayed fed and changed when she was an infant and served as a mother figure in her life, while he was the reason all of them stayed fed and warm now.

A sudden shifting of the earth makes Aveena fall to her knees with a shout, hands coming up to cover her head as she curls into the fetal position. Everything rumbles and shakes for a while, Aveena included; items falling off shelves, small tables toppling over along with the vases of flowers they held.

"Papa," she cries out, voice raw from crying. Rumple runs up the stairs at his daughter's plea, finding her in the hall and quickly pulling her into his lap.

"I'll be alright, little bird," he whispers into her hair," it will pass just as all things do."

**Storybrooke**

Morgan glares at the air cast on her arm, glad she would be getting the stupid thing off in a couple of days. It made her arm sweaty and itchy, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as an actual cast. "Miss Gold, would you mind paying attention," Mrs. Bryland snaps. The old lady had a stick up her ass today and her target was Morgan since she and her husband were behind in their rent again.

_Yeah, go figure she'd pick on the kid whose father owns her damn house, but whatever._

"Sorry, Ma'am, I was just thinking about what my papa would do if he were stuck in the same room as a talking fossil," she replies, closing her notebook and stuffing it in her bag.

"Go to the office!" Bryland's pale face was blotchy and her left eye was twitching, meaning Morgan's job was done. Let it not be said that she wasn't as big an asshole as her father, though she would be on first name terms with the principal by now.

"With pleasure." She smiles at the older woman, walking out of the classroom and down the hall to the principal's office where she would sit until the bell rings and the principal would release his gym class, give her a five-minute lecture, ask her to give her papa his regards, and send her on her way just in time for chemistry. It wasn't a bad arrangement, especially since it got her out of art history.

On the way to the office, though, a tremor makes her fall flat on her ass, the walls of the school beginning to shake. Earthquakes had been occurring a lot recently and they always caught her off guard, sending her heart up into her throat. She crawls into the office, practically diving under the secretary's desk and covering her head with her arms.

"Miss Gold," the secretary greets, not looking up from her daily crossword puzzle. The things were like her version of crack and not even an earthquake was going to stop her from doing them. Morgan doesn't respond, curling into a tight ball as her breaths got quicker. The earthquake stops after a little while and Morgan comes out a moment later once she was sure that the ceiling wasn't going to collapse. Papa was standing in the doorway, raising his brows when he spots her on the floor.

"Howdy," she smiles, standing up and trying to stop her shaking. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm checking you out early," he explains with a smile. "I had a feeling you would be sick after this." She nods, glad Papa knew enough about her that he would come get her early so that she could puke in the privacy of the shop bathroom. "Come on, the car's running."

**Enchanted Forest**

Mordred glares at Aveena across the table, not having taken her news well. "You will do as you were told, girl," he growls, setting his knife and fork down. She smiles at him with mischief dancing in her eyes, an expression often seen on her biological father's face, but she didn't know it at the time. At her smile, his frown deepens and he wondered where her sudden burst of confidence had come from.

"You may be powerful, Ser, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve as well." At that, Aveena pulls out Excalibur and rests its point on Mordred's collarbone. "Now, if you're quite finished, I'll take my leave." She gives him one last glare, putting away the sword and walking out of the home, using her magic to transport herself back to the castle in a puff of purple smoke. Carefully, she puts Excalibur back in its spot, looking around for her father but seeing no one. "Hm, must be out."

"Think again, dearie." She jumps at her papa's voice, turning slowly with a guilty look. "And where have you been?"

"In the village," she answers quickly," I thought I'd pick up some fruit." Not exactly a lie, Rumple notices, but not the truth either and he's taught his daughter time and again that she couldn't get away with lying to him. The look he sends her way has her ducking her head and fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. "I was saying goodbye to Vincent... A final goodbye."

"Vincent?"

"Yes, Vincent—"

"How long have you been sneaking around behind my back with a boy?"

"A month or so, but he won't be around anymore, Papa."

"He better not be or I'll take care of him myself."

**Storybrooke**

Martin Paracida wasn't a very happy man at the best of times, let alone when his son's girlfriend comes banging on his front door in the middle of the night. Grumbling, he shuffles down the stairs and flings the door open, dragging Morgan inside by the front of her dress, and slamming the door closed with a deafening _bang_.

"What do you want at this hour," he demands gruffly.

"To cancel our agreement," she says with a shrug, straightening out the little black number she'd worn to Graham's funeral a week prior. "I will no longer tell you my papa's secrets because I'm not scared of you anymore. You're just an old man and your son has some serious mommy issues."

"Excuse me—"

"Shut up." She didn't have to raise her voice to make Martin do as she said, her tone quiet, even, and deadly. "Tell your kid to go fuck that cheerleader he's been ogling for the past three weeks, but you might want to warn her how small he is." She holds her forefinger and thumb a few inches apart as she said that, using it for emphasis. "Goodnight, Mister Paracida."

"How dare you!" He goes to grab her arm, but she dances away from him and even laughs as he stumbles against the wall.

"Think of it this way," Morgan says mischievously, patting his cheek," you'll have more time to focus on your business _and_ you'll stay alive so long as I don't let slip to my papa about what you've done to his only child." With that, she pulls the door open and walks out into the cool night air, Martin's gaze following her. "Sleep tight, dearie."

Morgan smiles as she walks into her house, a smug smile that mirrored her papa's to a tee. She's been forced to do the Paracidas' dirty work for the past couple of months under the threat that Martin would take everything her papa held dear until she realized that _she_ is the thing Papa loved the most.

Tonight had gone splendidly, all day had, in fact—Emma had won the spot for Sheriff, Henry is safe and sound in his home, and Papa's shop doesn't smell too bad anymore. This was just the cherry on top and she could already feel her sense of self bubbling to the surface, though it would take a while until she stopped flinching whenever a man was near her.

"Morgan," Papa greets," where have you been?" She plops down on the couch beside him, happier than she's been in months.

"Breaking things off with Eli," she answers with another smile. Papa nods his approval, pulling her close as an Indiana Jones movie comes on. They've both grown to love these movies and watched them whenever there was time to, which wasn't as often as they wanted. "I love you, Papa."

"And I you, sweetheart."

Morgan frowns as she hangs up the home phone, getting off her bed and beginning to pack an overnight bag. Papa had been arrested for assault on Mister French, the town florist and she could bail him out in the morning, but Emma was already on her way home for the night and didn't want to deal with any paperwork. Morgan couldn't blame her, this late at night she'd probably leave someone behind bars, too.

Unfortunately, Regina had found out about the whole thing first and was on her way to pick Morgan up, making her stay at the Mills house for the night. She'd mentioned a free babysitting session next week in exchange for a home cooked meal, like she couldn't have one here. Granted, she and her papa mostly ate TV dinners and take-out, but there were occasional stove-cooked meals. Okay, so it's Hamburger Helper, but that counts.

Regina's car was parked in the driveway by the time Morgan made it downstairs, headlights shining through the thin windows on either side of the door. She really wasn't looking forward to this, but at least she'd get to see Henry again and ask him about the town's gossip.

Shouldering her bag, Morgan walks outside to the waiting car.


	9. IX

**Dark Castle**

Aveena listens as her papa complains about true love, rolling her eyes as she practices with Excalibur and Trista continues to sew a new dress for her. It's a dark red satin that made her brunette hair stand out and accentuated the fact that Aveena was becoming a woman. Papa hated it, but decided that his daughter could have it as long as she didn't wear it in front of guests.

" _Prince Charming_ is enough to get on anyone's nerves, but Snow White is so sweet she could make your teeth rot," he grumbles, pacing back and forth in front of his spinning wheel.

"I kind of like Snow White," Aveena muses. "She's strong and independent, and she doesn't need a man to defend her. Why shouldn't she fight for her true love?"

"It's not that, it's the fact that only a few weeks ago she asked for a potion to make her forget Charming and I'm sure he'll be here any minute to ask for a potion to fix her." At that moment, a handsome man barges into the room, looking frantic as he rushes over to Rumple.

"What did you do to Snow," he demands. Rumple turns to face Aveena and Trista with raised brows.

"What did I tell you?"

**Storybrooke**

"Hey, Miss Blanchard," Morgan smiles, one arm wrapped loosely around Henry's shoulders as she walks him into the classroom where she'd be the teacher's aide today. Mary-Margaret grimaces, looking up at the teen with a worried frown. "Pay no attention to those blood hounds we call townsfolk, they're idiots." A nasty rumor had been spreading through town like the Black Death in Asia, everyone talking about how Mary-Margaret, the nicest person in Storybrooke, had been having an affair with David Nolan, a recently awoken ex-coma patient. It was true, but Morgan still hated to hear the gossip since Miss Blanchard had never been anything except nice to everyone.

"How can I not? Some parents have requested having their children moved to a different class."

"If it makes you feel any better, last year someone spread a rumor that I did the dirty with the entire soccer team."

"And you had people to defend you."

"Yup," Morgan nods, twining their arms together," and now it's my turn to defend your honor for a change. I'll tell Chloe Duvall that Mrs. Nolan was just freaking out for nothing and being a crazy, possessive bitch and _that_ rumor will spread like wildfire, true or not." The teacher gives her a weak smile, going to sit at her desk after handing Morgan a stack of papers to make copies of for the later classes.

"That's very sweet, Morgan, but don't do that. I don't need any more bad karma than I've already got. Please, copy the pages with sticky notes and then you can help me build some birdhouses with the kids."

"You got it." In the workroom said rumor mill, Chloe, was talking to her buddy about recent news. Morgan sets the first paper in the copier and gets the worksheets to printing, all the while listening intently to the Gossip Queen's conversation. It was the same crap Morgan's been hearing all morning, the only difference being a new development.

"Yeah, they found her car, but no Katherine," Chloe whispers. "They said she couldn't have run away on purpose because her bags were in the trunk still, so the police are thinking she was kidnapped."

"We all know who has a reason to get her out of the way," one of Chloe's lackeys replies. "I bet the whore is happy to finally have Katherine out of her way so she has a shot at David."

"My papa told me that Katherine was complaining in his shop the other day," Morgan pipes up, gaining their attention. "He said she was going on and on about how she couldn't wait to leave this place and find a new man to sink her claws into. Maybe where she's going she doesn't need clothes, at least, not much of them. I've heard strippers make good money." Grinning, she grabs the papers and walks back to the classroom down the hall.

That should help out Mary-Margaret for a little while.

**Dark Castle**

Aveena watches with interest as her papa places two strands of hair in a vial, pink magic swirling around inside it. It was a new spell Rumple had discovered and bottled, the impish man staring at it gleefully. He places it on a shelf with similar vials, the marking on the new one proclaiming it to be _True Love_.

He had finally done it.


	10. X

**Enchanted Forest**

Aveena sits on the shore of the lake, watching her reflection with little interest as she waited for her papa's business in the village to be finished. "Aveena?" A new reflection joins hers, a woman with dark brown hair and eyes, and some weird outfit that looked too ostentatious for Aveena's taste. She turns to face the woman, hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. "I thought so, you look exactly like your father." Aveena's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion since she looked nothing like her papa.

"Who are you?"

"The only person who'll tell you the truth. My name is Regina."

"What do you mean the truth?" Regina smiles, a cruel thing that made Aveena nervous, and she had just stood up when Regina snaps her fingers. Black-clad soldiers come out of the woods to surround the pair, weapons drawn and ready to be used.

"Put her in the carriage, she could be useful later." The men attack Aveena as one, overpowering her and tossing her into the Queen's carriage. It's an uncomfortable trip to Regina's castle, especially since she spends it on the floor with one heel of Regina's shoe pressed tightly beneath her jaw. It's not until Aveena's thrown in the dungeon that she gets a chance to move. Aveena pulls on the bars of her cell with all her strength, her only thought to escape from the Evil Queen's dungeon and get back to her papa. "There's no escaping here unless you possess any magic," Regina smirks confidently, looking the prisoner up and down. "And I highly doubt you have any magic inside that chubby body." Aveena pauses a second, a smile slowly beginning to form. She _did_ have magic, not very much, but enough to do a simple teleportation spell. Her papa had taught her it when she was eight. "What's that look for, brat?"

"I know something you don't know," Aveena sing-songs, purple smoke swirling around her feet at a rapid pace. Before Regina could counter the spell and force Aveena to stay, the teen was already back at the lake. Rumple appears seconds later, the residual magic catching his attention, but he ignores it when he finds his daughter smiling up at him from her spot on the ground. "Is it time to go back home?"

"Yes, little bird," he confirms," my business here is done for now." She jumps up, taking his arm and smiling even more as she feels his magic surround them. It was warm and familiar to her, comforting in a way that nothing else was.

Watching from behind a tree a few feet away was what appeared to be a teenage boy, grinning wickedly as he witnessed his old friend interact with what would be his main weakness. Yes, the daughter of Rumpelstiltskin could further certain plans easily, all he had to do was turn her against the Imp.

**Storybrooke**

"Your Majesty," Papa greets as Regina storms into the shop and places a rotted apple on the display case.

"You think this is funny," she demands, obviously in a foul mood. "Well, I'll tell you what I think, I think it's a sign of the Curse—" Papa cuts her off with a simple look, cutting his gaze in Morgan's direction. The teen looks between the two adults, her laptop balanced on her knees as she absently thought of a good thesis statement for her term paper over Porphyria. "Morgan, can you give us some privacy? This is an urgent matter and it doesn't need to be discussed in front of children."

"Sure, but uh, I'm not eight," she says. "Seventeen year old here, kind of a young adult." Morgan stands, carefully balancing all of her stuff in her arms. "Just curious, when you say _curse_ , did you mean like when Mojo Jojo said the same thing?"

"Morgan," the adults say in unison.

"Alright, but if Regina starts hissing the word _curses_ at little children because they were swimming in her moat, then know that I called it and I get to address her as Mojo Jojo for the rest of the month."

"Morgan Elizabeth," Regina says again in the same stern tone she uses with Henry. Morgan shrugs, exchanging her laptop for a notebook and walking into the back office.

After a few minutes, she grows frustrated at the lack of results and scribbles a note for Papa before running out the back door towards the docks with a pencil and notebook. All of her best ideas occur when she's at the docks with the water splashing over her feet. Papa hated her love of water, but he never forbade her from going to the docks as long as it wasn't too dark and she never showed up late to school or somewhere important.

Few people were there at this time of day, most were home with their families for dinner, so she basically had the place to herself. At the farthest end of the docks, she sat cross-legged with the notebook perched on her leg and her pencil between her lips, eyes closing as she listened to the crashing waves. She's left alone with her thoughts for an hour, late morning slowly shifting to afternoon as the sun warms the water. It's not much, but Morgan's toes appreciate the change in temperature. Morgan doesn't notice that anything is amiss until she feels someone pulling her forcefully to her feet, her nearly-completed thesis statement tumbling to the dock and her favorite pencil rolling into the water.

"What the hell," she complains, turning to face the person interrupting her study time only to find her papa looking frantic. "What…. What's going on?"

"It's young Henry, I'm afraid," Papa says softly, the hand not holding his cane giving Morgan's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "He's…" Papa trails off, as though unsure how to phrase the news.

"Papa?"

"He's in critical condition at the hospital, they're not quite sure what's wrong with him." Her stomach dropped at the news, throat feeling tight as she glances at the road that leads back into town. She didn't wait for Papa to offer her a ride to the hospital, she just started sprinting as fast as she could. To hell with being one of the least athletic people in Storybrooke, Henry's in the hospital and she needs some answers _right fucking_ _now_.

Storybrooke hospital is busy most of the time, but the ICU ward was in total chaos when she arrives thirty minutes later, Doctor Whale trying to separate Emma and Regina so that they wouldn't kill each other. The distraction worked in Morgan's favor, allowing her to slip into Henry's room without anyone trying to stop her. He looks so small lying in the hospital bed, all kinds of machines and wires hooked up to him. She's always thought of him as an annoying brother, someone that would bug her at one minute and then be there for comfort the next, but now he was ashen and his breathing was shallow.

"Oh my God," she breathes, hands flying up to cover her mouth. She's never seen him look so fragile, so vulnerable, not even when he was an infant. Henry was strong, he was supposed to leave this town and do something important. _He's supposed to live, goddammit!_

**Dark Castle**

Aveena's eyes close as she focuses on the feel of the sword in her hand, won from King Arthur in one of her papa's various deals. Excalibur was its name and it was part of her now, just like her arm was part of her. _You can't drop part of your arm_ , she tells herself as her arm grows tired and the sword heavier.

Fidget watches her on the stairs, having snuck down when she left him in her bed. Behind the kitten is Trista, sitting and petting the kitten's head distractedly. She found a woman handling a sword interesting; her own father would have beat her bloody if she even thought of touching a sword.

"You can't drop part of your arm," Aveena whispers under her breath, moving in a motion as fluid as water. She has been taught well, moving with grace that she normally lacked. "You can't drop part of your arm."

Looking out the window, Trista saw the cloud of magic, dark purple with green lightening rumbling their way. It scared her, she didn't know for sure what was about to happen and she wanted to be as near to Aveena as she could at the time of impact. It would be any second now and Trista held her breath, sweeping the kitten up into her arms. She hoped it came with them so Aveena would not be completely alone.

And then the cloud enveloped the castle, crumbling stone and turrets, sending the inhabitants into a deep sleep.

**Storybrooke**

Morgan anxiously paces the room, waiting for her turn to visit with Henry. Mary-Margaret was in there right now, reading him his book of fairy tales. According to him, they helped to wake up David Nolan from his coma and now Mary-Margaret was trying them out on Henry to see if it works even the slightest bit. Emma and Regina had run off to find something that they thought could save their son a few minutes ago, the determination in their eyes warning everyone to stay out of their way.

Morgan didn't have any ideas of how to get Squirt up and moving, but she was content to sit by his side and talk to him about everything going on around the town. Every now and then, she'd crack out _Return of the King_ and read part of a chapter like she'd done when he was sick as a baby. Hell, she's been watching the kid every other Saturday since he was learning to walk. She'd watched him take his first steps, say his first word. The kid meant the world to her and she doesn't know what she would do if he didn't make it.

She looks up as alarms start sounding in the E.R., Mary-Margaret running out of Henry's room in tears a second later. "No," Morgan shouts, voice raw as she sprints into Henry's room only to have a big guy wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back out into the hall. "Henry!"

"I'm sorry," the nurse whispers, holding her as she breaks down, "I'm so, so sorry." She breaks out of his hold and starts running, taking stairs when the elevator was too slow, bursting out of the doors and out into the bright light of day. Morgan stumbles around through the streets, unsure of where she's going just that she needed to get away. Henry was gone forever and now she had nothing to look forward to.

"You can't drop part of your arm," she whispers, the phrase she'd often tell herself in times of stress. It was comforting, though she has no idea why. "You can't drop part of your arm... You can't drop part of your arm..."

Somehow, she'd made it into the shop and to the display of a beautifully crafted sword. It had a golden and ruby encrusted hilt, the blade sharp and shining when it catches the low light of the shop. She'd always loved the sword, running her fingers over the supple leather of its sheath. She picks it up, liking the weight and beginning to move with it, doing things she didn't know she was capable of. And in that moment, memories begin to flash through her mind, making her fall to her knees and clench the sword tightly.

_Familiar blue eyes meeting hers in a crowded village... Papa holding her when she had a nightmare... Trista showing her how to care for a little black cat... Regina kidnapping her... Excalibur fitting into her hand near perfectly as she learned how to handle it... The Curse, the horrible Curse that wiped her memories from her mind and replaced them with false ones... Bae... The teen on a dark island with a heated gaze that scared her senseless... Her name..._

She gasps, shaking as she runs out in the streets with a few of the other people; Granny... Red... Grumpy and the other Dwarves. But no Papa, no Trista. She was all alone in this world and she had no idea what to do. Some of the other residents send her strange looks, glancing down at her right hand, and she realized she was still holding Excalibur tightly.

_You can't drop part of your arm._


End file.
